


Show Me (your fangs)

by Itch



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Knotting, M/M, bottom!jeralt, no beta we die like Glenn, oh boy, seteth is a little bit dragon, top!seteth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26430496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itch/pseuds/Itch
Summary: In secret, Jeralt and Seteth meet. Less secret, Jeralt really wants Seteth to knot him.
Relationships: Jeralt Reus Eisner/Seteth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Show Me (your fangs)

**Author's Note:**

> it was a brainworm that wouldnt leave. part dragon seteth sexy

_ We were doomed from the start. A lost cause. A losing battle. And yet, in that narrow instant, I didn't give a single fuck. - Julie Johnson, Erasing Faith _

The bell tower that towered over Garreg Mach clanged out the 2am bells, the sound ringing around the supposedly empty pews of the cathedral, announcing to all who were still awake what time it was. Of course, not many on the grounds of the school were still awake, as it was the early hours of the morning, and most had early classes not long after the sun kissed the brickwork. A few of the student bedrooms had a dim light in the windows though, probably doing last minute homework from the light of dying candles and cursing themselves, wishing they’d done it earlier. 

There were, however, at least two people who were definitely awake, and they were right underneath the deafening ring. But neither even blinked at the sound, they just kept touching, and leaning further into the other's touch. As the sound echoed away, leaving the room silent except for heavy breathing and panting, one finally said something. It was the first thing they'd said since they met there, in the orange flickering light of 3 candles, a meeting place decided in scrawled unpractised handwriting on some scrap crumpled parchment.

"Seteth, fuck-" Jeralt panted, his hands carding through Seteth's wavy green locks, feeling the way it curled around his fingers and seemed to cling to him, refusing to let him go. Seteth bowed his head to draw lines of kisses along the mercenary's jaw, the rough scrape of stubble against his lips exhilarating in its own way. He loved it when Jeralt chose not to shave before these excursions, he loved the scratch of the hair. It made everything feel so much more raw and real.

He'd been with men before, Jeralt wasn't his first, but he was his favourite. This also wasn't the first time they'd been together. The first time had been in Seteth's room after they'd had too much to drink, swapping swigs from bottles of wine stolen from the kitchen, and one thing had just naturally led into another. Longing stares at lips turned to gentle kisses, which evolved into frantic make out sessions as if they were neer going to be able to kiss again. Kissing led to touching and fondling and before he'd known what he was doing Seteth had found himself plowing deep into Jeralt, watching the other clench his mouth closed to stop moans spilling over the edge. His inability to keep quiet was what prompted the escapades in the dark, places no one would think to look for them. The cathedral was the most common, no one would think  _ Seteth  _ of all people would commit such an act of blasphemy, but he found it just enriched the experience. 

"Hm? Fuck what?" He purred, forked tongue slipping between his teeth to tickle the pressure point tucked behind Jeralt's ear lobe. It was that 'time of the month' as they jokingly referred to it, a time where his dragon side came close to the surface and bubbled over in places. It was officially known as a "rut", but he found that term vulgar. He had tried to keep it a secret from his lover, but Jeralt found out through reading an ancient text about dragons, and decided that this time, he wanted to experience it fully. 

"Your teeth are so  _ sharp _ ." Jeralt puffed his chest out, pushing their bodies closer together as a whistling chill came through the drafty room. "It's so different, but I can't say it's unpleasant that's for su-" he hissed in a breath as the aforementioned sharp teeth scratched over his collarbone leaving a raised red mark. Not enough to draw blood, but enough that Jeralt could feel the line pulsing with heat and stinging in pain. He knew what he liked, and what he liked was everything Seteth seemed to do. When he smiled, his heart went wobbly, but when he sank to his knees and his reptilian tongue wrapped around his erection through his trousers his entire body quaked. 

Seteth's chest rumbled in a low chuckle as he grasped the trouser fabric that was loose around Jeralt's knees and he pulled, scooting them to midway down his thighs. He was distracted for a second by a thick pale scar on the left one, diagonal across his leg, cutting across a slightly blurred tattoo of a dragon. He'd seen it before of course and knew the story, it had been given to him for free as an act of kindness by a village chieftain after he saved them from a group of bandits. The chief had called him Jeralt the Dragon after his bellowing war cry, and blessed him with the tattoo. Seteth scratched his teeth over it in an almost possessive way, showing the other dragon who was boss before he snaked his tongue around the base of Jeralt's cock. 

Jeralt let the brick wall take his weight as his knees buckled, and his eyes fluttered closed, Seteth's hot wet mouth closing in over his dripping head and taking inch by inch at a purposefully sloth-slow crawl. It was a taunt, a test. Could Jeralt withstand the teasing and let Seteth send each atom of him to heaven and back at his own pace, or would he take charge and push himself to the back of Seteth's throat, feel him clench and gasp for air? Maybe he should see just how much of a beating Seteth's pretty, pretty face could take. Before he could make much of a choice, Seteth decided it for him, hollowing out his cheeks and letting saliva drip from his mouth in the most filthy way. Jeralt couldn't stop staring at the silvery strands stretching from his pinkening lips down, down and down, before they dripped off into a slowly growing puddle on the floor. He had no idea how much that would have turned him on, the sloppy sounds of Seteth licking up and down, and the sight of him drooling. 

Seteth closed his eyes and leant into his performance, well aware he was being watched. He meant forward, arching his back just a little and let his jaw go slack, wet choking noises filling the air around them as he fucked his own throat with Jeralt's cock, moaning with the breaths he could snatch between filling his mouth with the delicious warmth and fullness. He hadn't considered before the concept of him having an oral fixation, but it did fit the bill. Just having his mouth so full, full enough he could barely make a sound, made him strain against the confines of his own underwear. 

"Seteth,  _ ah, _ god, you're gonna- don't make me come yet." Jeralt pleaded, tugging at Seteth's hair to get him to stop, even though he would have happily emptied himself down his lover's throat. He wasn't a young man in the throes of puberty anymore, his recovery rate wasn't quick enough to have two rounds in one night. Seteth huffed, flicking his tongue like a snake across the tip of Jeralt's cock, making it twitch, before he stood. They were roughly the same height, the main difference being Seteth was sleek and lean, whereas Jeralt was broader and his muscles bulged like a threat. 

"Such a shame. You know how much I enjoy the taste of you." Seteth's hands rested on Jeralt's hips and he guided them round so he was facing the wall, pressed against the cool brick. "But I'm going to enjoy so much more of you now." He reached into the pocket of his trousers, pulling out a small bottle of body oil of which he thumbed the lid off, letting the liquid pool onto his fingers and seep down to the base to gather in his palm. "I'm going to fill you tonight. I'm going to fill you and you're going to feel full for days." His fingers pressed against Jeralt's hole, and he didn't give him long to adjust before he slid one long finger inside, intent on warming him up. "You've done your research, you know the rut is a mating ritual." Jeralt nodded, pressing back into Seteth's body heat. 

"I know, I read it, you use ruts to find a mate, one who can keep up with your pace and withstand your kn-" he stumbled over the word as Seteth added a second well-lubed finger, pressing deeper inside of him. 

"Say it. Let me hear you." Seteth's words weren't an innocent request, they were an order. He needed to hear Jeralt say it, needed to know he  _ understood  _ what was going to happen when he was done preparing him. 

"Withstand your kn-knot." Jeralt stammered the word out as he ground his hips against Seteth's hand, wanting both more and less at the same time. He wanted deeper, harder thrusts, and less  _ fingers  _ and more cock. 

"That's right. I'm not going to do it if you tell me not to, I refuse to hurt you." He scraped his sharpened teeth across Jeralt's shoulder and let out a low growl, adding a third finger to make damn well sure he was ready for what was coming. 

"You  _ can  _ though, if you want. You might even enjoy it." It was definitely a hint, Jeralt was a hardened soldier, and sometimes he felt like the only way he was able to feel anything was when someone was rough with him, taking handfuls of his hair and pulling, holding his face against a rickety mattress, leaving fingerprint bruises on his thighs- 

"I'd rather treasure you slowly." Seteth purred, slipping his fingers out of Jeralt's now ready hole and wiping them dry on his own trousers. "I'd rather take my time, feeling every inch of you," he positioned himself ready to push in, nipping at Jeralt's earlobe and lowering his voice to a husky whisper. "Take you apart inch by inch, until you're a complete mess, beautifully at my mercy." And as he finished speaking, he thrust, filling Jeralt up in one swift move. Jeralt bit down on his lower lip to stop himself from howling, leaning his forehead against the cool stone, focusing on both the searing heat from Seteth’s body behind him and the nearly unbearable cold in front of him. He dug his nails into the grouting, struggling to get purchase as Seteth found himself a rhythm, slow but punishing, easing himself in and then leaving Jeralt feeling empty before filling him so full again. 

“Set-Seteth, I,  _ ungh _ , I need more.” Jeralt pleaded, pushing his hips back against Seteth, a tease, encouraging him, knowing when he got like this some sort of primal urge took him over. He felt the draconic canines nick against his throat and he sucked in a sharp breath, Seteth’s pace picking up. “God, yes, like that, please, please,” a soft snarl from Seteth’s lips made Jeralt  _ ache _ , and his tongue lolled out. 

In a split second decision, Seteth slid his hand up from Jeralt’s hip to push two fingers into Jeralt’s mouth, listening to him gag for a second before lathering attention to the digits, moaning lewdly around him, drool running down his chin like he was a sex starved hormonal teen. He was anything  _ but  _ sex starved since they’d begun their trysts, every night they could they’d meet and fuck until they were both exhausted and couldn’t move anymore. And whilst he hated talking about his age, he was definitely not a teen either. He was a little older than Seteth, the weathered lines on his handsome face indicators of how long he’d spent outdoors wandering the wilderness and living on the road, the golden brown tan leaving his skin with a lingering scent of the sun’s rays. His hair carried the freshness of the northern wind, and his laugh the bubble of the many brooks that carved their way across the world’s landscape. Seteth wholly believed that Jeralt was a man forged by the Earth, and it was an honour to have him like modelling clay in his hands, begging for more, more,  _ more _ -

“More, Cichol, I need more.” The whimpering was beautiful, Jeralt’s eyes wide and pleading as he ground back against Seteth, who had been lost in his thoughts for a second. The name Jeralt used zinged through him, igniting nerves he hadn’t realised he had. 

“What did you say?” The draconic touch to him left a rasp on his words and he swore he felt Jeralt melt just a little more into him.

“I said  _ more  _ Cichol. You won’t break me. I need you. All of you.” 

Seteth clenched for a second, his true name firing off fireworks in the empty space in his head where rational thought would usually exist before he made a snap decision. He grabbed Jeralt and spun him round. Digging his nails into Jeralt’s thighs he hitched him up with strength even Jeralt seemed surprised at before he buried himself in his lover again, using gravity to help him get a better angle. Jeralt cried out, the sound ringing around the echoey hall, and as he went to clamp a hand over his mouth Seteth dived in for a kiss, capturing his mouth. 

“I want to hear you. I want to hear you beg and cry as I  _ fuck  _ you.” the words were filthy and when he wasn’t half-dragon he would probably regret them, but at the time they were the best thing he’d ever said, driving his hips up, up, up, and biting down, down, down on Jeralt’s lower lip, jaw, neck, shoulder. He lathered him with kisses and bites, marking him with purpling bruises, claiming him as his, as Jeralt’s wail of pleasure bounced off the stone wall and escaped into the rafters. 

“Cichol, I need to, please let me-” 

“Come for me my love, let me feel you.” Seteth wrapped a hand around Jeralt’s dick that was pressed between them and gave it a purposefully stroke before he felt it twitch and jump, white strands flying from the tip to coat them both in a sticky mess. He collected what he could on his fingers and held his hand up by Jeralt’s mouth, an incredibly unsubtle hint. Jeralt opened his mouth obediently and started to lick himself off Seteth’s fingers, making direct eye contact. Seteth’s hips stuttered and he came, pressing himself flush to Jeralt, the knot at the base of his cock pressing into his now spent lover who whined, teeth leaving marks on Seteth’s fingers. The dragon part of him was pleased, eyeing up his  _ claimed  _ partner with a plush feeling of success, but the human part of him was shocked at the fact he’d let himself let go of control like that. He was never anything less than proper, how could he just... 

“Don’t look at me like that.” Jeralt complained lightly, swatting Seteth in the side of the head. “I asked for it. I’m fine. I forgot calling you  _ Cichol _ -” he felt Seteth twitch inside him, the knot anchoring them together, “got you so riled up. But fuck, that was good.” Seteth smiled gently, the words helping him. 

“Good. I don’t know how I would live with myself if I had seriously hurt you.” He rested his forehead against Jeralt’s, sharing a sweet kiss. 

“I know, love. I know.” 

They left on their own fifteen and twenty minutes later respectively. Seteth straightened his hair and gave Jeralt a gentle smile before he vanished into the night, heading back to his room. Jeralt held the golden circlet he had been wearing in his hands, wondering if he should chase after him and return it. He decided to take it back to his room, and he would return it next time. It gave him an excuse for a next time at least. Though truthfully, he never needed a _reason_ for a next time. It was enough they were both wholly love drunk with each other.

**Author's Note:**

> sO I hope you enjoyed that!  
> Please like, comment, and follow me on twitter @nothinggoeshere!


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